


Maybe you were the ocean (when I was just a stone)

by regretttttttttt



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Shingeki no Kyojin Fusion, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 12:43:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3729391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regretttttttttt/pseuds/regretttttttttt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe it was hate at first when Clarke and Bellamy first met. But -<br/>At the age of 22, when she is promoted to the youngest Commander of the Scouting Legion, Clarke accepts it without looking back. By her side is Bellamy Blake: Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.<br/>They learn to work it out, together.<br/>Shingeki no Kyojin/ Attack on Titan AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe you were the ocean (when I was just a stone)

**Author's Note:**

> The Attack on Titan AU which no-one really asked for. I thought the themes works well with the 100: love, survival, morality and death, loads of death. No prior knowledge of the SNK universe needed. Without further ado.

Ever since Clarke had heard of the existence of the _outside world_ , she had felt like a caged bird. Humanity were trapped within these circling walls, protecting them from the mercy of _titans_. As part of the privileged, her mother being on the council, she rarely ventured outside of the inner-walls. Instead, she would draw pictures, based on the tales from her father, the titan researcher –the sea (so large and full of salt, he had said) she wanted to _taste_ it; above, the starry sky and full moon. She had spent her childhood poring over volumes of books. And every time her father left for his trips, she would wait impatiently for her father to return and tell her more.

  
“We don’t know much outside of Wall Maria,” he said, pointing to the outer walls. “That’s titan infested land. We also don’t know much about the titans. They only seem interested in eating people, but the Scouting Legion are doing the best they can to find out more.”

  
“Scouting Legion?”

  
“I’m working with them currently. They’re the only ones who go outside the walls – the best of the best, who can fight titans.”

  
“Really? I want to be one.”

  
“Titans are quite scary, you know,” he chuckled. “You’d be better off in the Garrison or the Military Police. You’d be safe within these walls.”

  
All of a sudden, he seemed distant.

  
Later, in the palace gardens, she asked Wells about the outside.

  
“Don’t you want to see it?”

  
“Sure, I guess, but without the titans,” he mused.

  
“The Scouting Legion will defeat them for sure. We can do it. I know we will.”

  
“You’re crazy,” Wells caught on to her suggestion and scoffed. He’d always been the rational one. “Your mother would never let you.”

  
“But come on. They’re amazing, right?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
Wells agreed, like he always did with Clarke. They’d once snuck out to watch the arrival of the Scouting Legion at the gates of Wall Sina, and they gazed in admiration at the bravest and best, because despite defeat, these soldiers would never give up.

  
“If you join, I’ll join with you,” Wells declared boldly.

  
Clarke took this as a joke.

  
“Your father is never going to let you join. You’ve got princely duties.” She giggled, sticking her tongue out. Wells decided that it was a good time to push her off the bench they were sitting on.

  
The naivety of childhood. They were ten years old and didn’t know any better. For Clarke, freedom would come at a cost.

  
\---

  
Lucky would be one term for it. Lucky that she won’t be sent down to the gallows with her father, because she knows. A terrible secret that will haunt her for a lifetime. Instead, she is sent to the Trainees Squad, to fight titans. Well, not really. There is a choice. Her mother is banking on her to be chosen for the Military Police so she can spend the rest of her whole damn life patrolling under the King. But she wants to see beyond the walls and she wants to fight for that. _Maybe, this is a test from Jaha? What does she want, because she’s not going to talk? Perhaps penance, for treason?_

  
The first few days she stays quiet, because everyone knows who she is – stares and whispers follow her as they wonder why she’s here. She misses Wells – her best and only friend.

  
He wrote to her on the first day:

  
_I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I hope we can talk again. I want to know what it’s like._

  
At first, she had ignored him but she knows that it is not his fault. It never was and she knows now where the blame lies. In her reply she does her best to apologise:

_It should be me who’s sorry. I tried hating you when it wasn’t you who betrayed me. I hope you can forgive me._

  
_I’ll try to tell you everything I can. I’m not sure if you want to be here because the training is horrible! Commander Kane is a total sadist. He made us run so many laps until my legs felt that they were on fire and I thought they were about to fall off. We haven’t done any practical training with the 3D Manoeuvre Gear, mostly just theory. I’ll draw it for you._

  
(She sketches the device and labels it: it’s strapped to the hips; there are grappling hooks to attach to buildings, gas tanks to propel them along, and slots to sheathe blades.)

  
_I can’t wait to fly. Can you imagine just soaring through the skies? Freedom: that’s the dream._

  
After the first week, she finally makes a few friends: Jasper and Monty, in particular – an oddball duo. They grew up in the same village and decided to join together.

  
_“The adventure,”_ Jasper had said with a glint in his eyes when Clarke asked why they were here. _“Just think: you’ll be a hero when you’re in the Scouting Legion.”_  
Monty was different. _“Titans. Don’t you think they’re interesting? No matter where you cut they will regenerate, apart from the nape of the neck. Pretty precise, right? But that’s not all. They weigh practically nothing, so what are they made out of? When they die, they just evaporate, their bodies giving off hot steam,_ ” he had rambled.

However, Clarke didn’t mind. She found both boys endearing and they had filled the empty void and silence in her life.

  
\---

  
“Hey, princess.”

  
She looks up from her book to see familiar face. “You’re the guy who got disciplined last week for taking out a set of 3DMG without permission.”

  
“One and only.” He says with a cheeky grin and holds his hand out. “Finn Collins.”

  
_What an idiot,_ Clarke thinks, rolling her eyes, though she decides that she likes him.

  
Taking his hand, her mouth forms a shy smile as she replies, “I think you already know who I am.”

  
His smile puts her at ease. It is full of life and charm. “Clarke Griffin. This golden girl who was on track to marry the prince. Even people living in the underground know,” he teases.

  
“Why are you here?” She asks.

  
Finn looks thoughtful, threading his fingers through his long dark hair. “You kinda look lonely. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t seem to have a lot of friends here. So I thought –“

  
“Friends. Okay.” Clarke replies rather too quickly. She flushes because it is the first time someone has approached her to make friends. She is happy, more than happy, and she is filled with excitement and warmth.

  
“Great, we have combat practice tomorrow. I was wondering if you wanna be my partner.”

  
“Sure.”  
\---  
When Clarke looks back, she realises that it all makes sense now – Finn, her first love.

  
_A few weeks after their meeting, Clarke kissed Finn. It was after their first training with their 3DMG. They were filled with the rush of adrenaline from their run through the labyrinth of forest trees, and with endorphins running through their veins, they crashed together like waves. His lips were gentle and sweet, and Clarke could remember that she felt giddy with joy when he reciprocated._

  
_The sweetness never lasted though, and the next day it came tumbling down. To be shocked to see another girl rushing into Finn’s arms, gripping him tightly, and kissing him passionately, was somewhat of an understatement. What Clarke felt was a mixture of anger, hurt and sadness._

  
_“My leg finally healed and the Commander let me join once I passed the physical. I’ve got a few things to catch up on but you can help.” She winked and turned around, at the sight of Clarke. “I’m Raven Reyes.”_

  
_“Clarke Griffin.” She blurted out, all of a sudden feeling guilty._

  
_“The Clarke Griffin.” Raven smiled widely. “Your mother helped to treat my leg. I can tell, we’re gonna be good friends.”_

  
_The secret ate at her for a while until Clarke finally worked up the courage to tell Raven. She never saw Raven as competition. For someone who always laughed and joked around, it was difficult to resent her. Clarke also knew that Raven was not to blame._

  
_Initially, Raven had reacted coldly and avoided talking to her, until one day she strode into the barracks and hugged Clarke._

  
_“I don’t need to forgive you because it wasn’t your fault that you never knew.” Raven sniffed. “Finn’s the dumbass, here. I’m sorry. It sucks sitting next Anna at lunch because she takes half of my food. Let’s be friends again.”_

  
In the end, Clarke doesn’t regret the outcome; Raven became her best friend.

  
One night, they decide to sneak up to the rooftop. The breezy evening summer wind ruffles through their hair and their legs are dangling off the ledge as Clarke points to the night sky, mapping out the constellations with her finger. The Northern Star – _the brightest of the Ursa Minor_. They gaze in wonder.

  
“But don’t you think the other one looks like a dick?” Raven points to Clarke’s left.

  
Clarke takes a moment to contemplate and bursts out into peals of laughter when she sees the resemblance. Raven joins her. After a few shushes and Clarke reminding them that they are not supposed to be up here, they finally settle down.

  
“Which one are you planning to join?” Raven asks.

  
Clarke replies without a moment’s hesitation. “The Scouting Legion. What about you?”

  
“Me too. I want to study titans.”

  
“You should talk to Monty.”

  
Raven cackles. “If I talk to Monty about titans I don’t think I’ll be able to get in a word edgeways. But that’s good. We can do this together. The research facility down there is pretty small. Maybe we could expand it when we get there.”

  
“It’s a good idea.” Clarke agrees quietly.

  
\---

  
Two years later she graduates top of the class, and for the first time she replies to her mother’s letters. _I’m joining the Scouting Legion_. It is mostly out of spite. She knows that it’s a death sentence. The majority never return from expeditions. However, she gets a sick sense of satisfaction when her mother replies, begging her to reconsider. _How does it feel to lose another person you love, when it’s your fault?_

  
\---

  
A month later she meets him, standing on the podium as he is introduced to the entire legion. Tousled hair, and deep dark eyes – there’s something about those eyes. He’s not even in the Scouting Legion and yet he is carrying the weight of the world on his shoulder. _This boy has monsters of his own._

  
“Bellamy Blake,” is all he says, eyes scanning the crowd below them.

  
The colour of his eyes: they should be warm, but they feel cold, and all she sees is anger. Those eyes land on her and he smirks. _She hates him._

  
A week later she calls him a selfish prick.

  
_That bastard only cares about himself._

  
A month later she knocks some sense into him.

  
_I need you._  
\---  
Living in the underground district meant never seeing the sun. That’s what Bellamy Blake thought. It is a set of dark and dank caverns, with winding alleys leading to darkness, fading gaslights, and crumbling concrete. When it rains, the air is damp and heavy with moisture.

  
He feels like he could suffocate, but when his sister is born, the pain is lifted from his chest, and the air is lighter. _Octavia,_ he names her from the history books that he stole from the market. Aurora Blake had scolded him, but later sat him down, and ran her slender fingers over the pages, as she taught him a few words.

  
Nevertheless, down here, everything rots in the end. When his mother dies – a disease in the knees due to the lack of sunlight – Bellamy is left to his own devices.

  
_“Your sister, your responsibility,”_ were her last words, and Bellamy couldn’t help but feel bitter.

  
He becomes a thief – he is getting better at stealing– learns how to fight, and earns himself a reputation. He is surprised when he finds people willing to follow him.

  
“You have the charisma,” Octavia snickers with a shit-eating grin plastered on her face.

  
Bellamy grumbles. _“Shut up.”_ But accepts them. After all, he could do with the help.

  
He steals a pair of 3DMG for Octavia’s seventeenth birthday.

  
He was passing by an unattended cart, when he remembered Octavia gazing wistfully at a moth dancing dangerously close to the glinting flames of their candle. _I wish I could fly_ , she had said, _so I could get out of this hellhole_. Bellamy Blake would do anything for his sister.

  
Octavia’s eyes shine with excitement when he shows them to her. Laughing, she jumps up into his arms and Bellamy humours her by spinning her around.

  
“You’ve gotta be kidding.”

  
“Nope.” He says, grinning like an idiot. _Anything for her._

  
Bellamy didn’t think it could get any better than this, but he was wrong. It was not just the happiness, but also the thrill of flying.

  
After a month of practising, their first flight in the air is nothing like he had expected. The inexplicable feeling of the breeze brushing through his hair, the lightness in his body and the rush of adrenaline. He can hear Octavia’s joyous laughter drifting through the air, as they swoop past decrepit buildings and bewildered people, and, with hope, he thinks, we’re almost there. Sometimes, they’re high enough to reach for the light seeping through the cracks in the cavern. Eventually, it becomes an everyday routine and they have even used them for a few heists.

  
_Things are good._

  
But he should have known that it would go to shit sooner or later. Bad luck seems to follow Bellamy Blake wherever he goes.

  
\---

  
There is a knock at the door and Bellamy opens it, expecting one of his lackeys, only to find a guard. _Shit._ He reaches for the knife at his hip, curling his fingers around the handle. Bellamy’s glares do not seem to perturb him. _He’s a typical high and mighty asshole from the Military Police._

  
“You can relax, you know. I’m not gonna arrest you.” His voice is condescending and apathetic, because, of course, to him, Bellamy belongs to the lowest of the low.

  
“What do you want?” Bellamy’s voice is venomous. He fights the urge take out his pocket knife and slash that man’s neatly pressed uniform.

  
“I’ve got an offer for you.”

  
“No thanks, not interested.”

  
“You will be. Passage to above.” About to close the door, Bellamy stops. That was his mistake, because he can see the guard’s eyes flicker dangerously, like he has just caught his prey. Bellamy seethes. He had laid all his cards on the table.

  
“Even if we did, we can’t stay there for long. We need citizenship.”

  
“We can give that to you. And your sister.”

  
It is too good to be true. A price must always be paid.

  
“What’s the deal?” He asks cautiously.

  
“We heard you can use the 3DMG. Skilled at fighting as well. With that, I bet you’re also good at making quick getaways. Considering where you’re from, no one upstairs would suspect a thing.”

  
“Get to the point.”

  
“Kill the king.”

  
“What? You’re crazy.” Bellamy laughs incredulously.

  
“You can do it. We know you can. The offer I’m giving you is true and you will be able to see the sun in a few days. You’ve got a sister. You don’t want to rot in this dump.”

  
The offer is too tempting to resist. That bastard had already won the argument, the second he mentioned the world above because he is right. Bellamy Blake would do anything for his sister.

  
\---

  
Of all the things they had expected, it is nothing in comparison to what they see, when they reach the surface. The all-encompassing sunlight is almost blinding, and, as they squint their eyes, they can just make out the tops of cathedrals and looming buildings. _What’s the best?_ It is difficult to decide: the sound of nature; the green, green grass; or the breath of fresh air?

  
When they arrive at the gates of Wall Sina, and their new home, Bellamy could hardly believe that they are about to live the ‘good life’. Octavia squeals as she jumps onto the bed, hugging the soft cushions. She hasn’t asked much, and Bellamy isn’t going to tell. _Keep my sister out of this,_ he had threatened the guard, and the man agreed. The less she knows, the better. If everything goes wrong, he will take the blame. In the evening, he set out plans of the palace grounds, charting escape routes, and guard posts, while Octavia prepares their meal. It turns out that the security on palace grounds is rather mediocre, so Bellamy begins to relax.

  
“Where are you going?” Octavia asks on the night he leaves.

  
“Taking a walk. I’m meeting up with a partner to make a deal,” Bellamy says, lacing up his boots.

  
“Is that what this is about? Let me come with you. I can help.” Octavia stands at the doorway with her hands on her hips.

  
“No, not this time.”

  
“Must be pretty serious if you’ve got your 3DMG.” Octavia points to the device hidden underneath his cloak.

  
Bellamy sighs and pulls her in for a hug.

  
“If I’m not back by morning, just carry on like normal. Okay?” He tells her.

  
Her voice is uneasy when she replies, “what are you talking about?”

  
“Trust me on this. Don’t worry, I’ll be back.” Bellamy reassures her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

  
“May we meet again.” He promises, as he leaves.

  
\---

  
Everything is going to plan. There are barely any guards at this hour so Bellamy has managed to slip into the palace grounds. Spying an open door, Bellamy swings onto the balcony of the royal chambers. _This is too easy,_ Bellamy begins to suspect, and the nerves start to creep in. There is no one in the bedroom – a bad sign _. Something is wrong._ He could back out now because there is the possibility of doing this another day. But he has made a deal that he cannot not take back. _This is a chance_ , Bellamy tries to convince himself and, at the back of his mind, he can hear Octavia scolding him for being brash and impulsive.

  
Voices are drifting in from the courtroom. This is it. From the upper level, he spies two shadows: one, in royal robes. _Thelonius Jaha. Got you._ Taking a step from the bannisters, Bellamy charges forward, sweeping in with his blades raised. At that moment, the robed figure turns around. _It’s his son._ Bellamy falters, changing his trajectory, and lands hard against a pillar. His sides ache but he manages to get up and unsheathe his knife from his belt in the process, in preparation to charge again.

  
“Stop,” Jaha’s voice booms and it echoes off the vast walls of the seemingly empty hall. “My men have you surrounded. Put your weapons down and we can talk this out. No one has to get hurt.”

  
_He’s right._ Above Bellamy, on the upper balcony are dozens of soldiers with their guns trained on him. He drops the knife. It hits the marbled floor with a resounding clatter. And slowly he raises his hands above his head, keeping them steady in spite of his fears.

  
“I’m sorry it had to be like this.” Jaha’s voice is solemn. “We received word that there was an assassination plot against me, so we were prepared for this, but needed proof to root out the dissidents. What’s your name?”

  
“Bellamy Blake,” he says through gritted teeth.

  
“Well, Bellamy Blake. Can you name the people who ordered you to do this?”

  
_For a king, Jaha sure is polite._

  
“Just one.”

  
“That’s all we need. Thank you.”

  
With a gesture, Bellamy suddenly feels hands grappling his shoulders, dragging him out of the doors of the great hall and into the dungeons.

  
As days pass by, Bellamy feels less resentful of his situation, because this is his fault. He was an idiot – no, _a monster_ – for even thinking about killing a man. If his mother knew. Bellamy stops counting the days as they start to blend into each other. And when they finally release him from his cell, Bellamy prepares for the worst: the hangman’s noose.

  
“Where are we going?” Bellamy panics. _If I’m gonna die at least let me send a final farewell to Octavia._

  
“The King has pardoned you. You’re going to the Scouting Legion instead,” the guard announces. “If you ask me, I don’t know which is a better fate, but you’ll have the chance of living. It’s better than you deserve.”

  
\---  
He is not here to make friends. And when they first met, it was neither Clarke Griffin’s nor Bellamy Blake’s intention to.

  
He would like to think that their exchange has been somewhat civil, except when she gave him a haughty look and offered to shake his hand, he ignored the gesture. She had bristled and retracted her hands to fold them against her chest.

  
Bellamy had sneered, “Sorry, didn’t think the princess would want to touch my dirty hands.”

  
Her expression was nothing short of murderous.

  
To add to his list of grievances, Bellamy is placed in the same squad as the princess. _God knows why she’s here, when she should be sitting cosily inside Wall Sina sipping tea and eating cake, or something,_ he thinks. They argue a lot – scratch that, _all the time_ – leaving their Squad Leader, Anya, exasperated, but Bellamy can’t help it. She is extremely bossy, a high born noble, who has probably spent all her life ordering servants around. So for her, Bellamy Blake is no different from a common street thug, given the rumours circulating around, as soon as he had arrived unannounced in the third week of training.

  
_Princess_ wants him to cooperate, work with the whole group, and share his ‘secrets’. There is no point showing people, when most of them are going to die on their first expedition. When push comes to shove, and they’re left in the lurch outside the walls, those who have never experienced a day’s worth of hardship will flee. Bellamy Blake refuses to become titan fodder.

  
He is not completely anti-social, since he’ll happily bark orders at those who’ll listen to him, if Clarke doesn’t object to them. Though he suspects that most of them are terrified of him. Just the other day, Jasper cringed when he asked for some water. The only person who isn’t afraid is Clarke.

  
“Fine, if you’re not going to work on _team_ building, because out there, _team_ take-downs are more likely to happen than individual ones, at least participate more in training.” Clarke sighs. “Get off your lazy ass and spar with me.”

  
Bellamy cocks his brow and glances over at Anya, who is standing at the edge of the courtyard. She has clearly given up on the both of them, offering seldom advice and only when needed. It could be some sort of weird entertainment, leaving them to their own devices and watching them argue, but Bellamy is not going to ponder over that for too long.

  
“Okay.”

  
His arms are raised, and Bellamy gets ready in a fighting stance, waiting for her to move, but changes his mind. Apparently, _princess_ was ranked number one of her trainee’s squad, so he shouldn’t underestimate her. He throws the first punch, but she dodges.

  
_Damn she’s fast, and clever too_ , because, before he can register it, she has kicked him in the back of his knees and he is falling to the ground. But Bellamy doesn’t give up that easily. He hooks his foot around her ankle with the intention of tripping her over. It doesn’t quite work, but it gives him enough time to get back up again.

  
Looking around, Bellamy realises that everyone else has gone quiet, gathering around them. Even Anya looks interested. This time, it is Clarke who goes first, and Bellamy just manages to stop her. Except she knees him in the stomach, quite hard and he doubles back, wheezing.

  
_She really doesn’t hold back,_ Bellamy thinks as he dodges the next swing. They go back and forth for a while, gathering cheers from the growing crowd, but they’re starting to tire. His moves are getting sloppy, but Bellamy doesn’t care.

  
_Can I just get this over and done with?_ Big mistake, because, without warning, Clarke jumps out from his blind spot, and throws him onto the ground. He had it coming for him.

  
“Next time, don’t do things half-assed,” Clarke pants.

  
“Sure thing, princess.” He smirks and barks with laughter, as she glares in return.

  
\---

  
“What the hell are you doing here?” He demands, because Octavia is here, when she should be living a full life in the safest city. Bellamy is not was pleased to find his sister standing on the podium, announcing confidently that she’s the newest addition to their ‘death squad’.

  
“You owe me a ton of explanations, big brother.” She retorts. Her first words, after she had punched him in the gut. _Brilliant,_ he thinks, because Bellamy knows that she is right. “Hmmm, you could start with, _I don’t know,_ planning to kill Jaha.” Her voice rises, catching the attention of those nearby. Well, _that_ cat is out of the bag. “Why are you such an idiot? It took me ages to find you. I was really worried.”

  
“Well, you’ve found me. Doesn’t mean you had to join, though.” Bellamy glowers at her uniform. “I’m supposed to keep you safe. How can I do that when you’ve joined a legion with a ninety-percent death rate?!”

  
“Screw you. You can’t protect me from everything. You kept secrets from me. If anyone should be angry, it’s me.”

  
Bellamy sighs, running his fingers through his hair. This is turning into a bad day.

  
“Just not this,” he pleads.

  
“I’m your family and we stick together.” Her voice softens a little but remains ever more stubborn. “If you’ve got a problem take it up with Commander Lexa. She let me join.”

  
Bellamy does. It doesn’t work and he leaves cursing all that is holy under his breath.

  
For a week, they don’t talk. Their only interactions are comprised of glowers from Anya’s squad to Indra’s.

  
\---

  
For Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake might as well be the bane of her existence. Ever since she first met him, it seemed that he had already written her off. It has something to do with her privilege as a noble, she knows that as much, and she would have no problem with it, if he was not placed in the same squad as her.

  
“You’re holding your blades wrong.”

  
“Well it gets the job done, princess.”

  
“Hey, let the others get a chance to practise. We can’t do that if you keep taking down the targets.”

  
“I’m just doing what we’re supposed to do.”

  
Every time he talks, Clarke just wants to wipe that stupid smirk off his face. She does her best to deal with her frustration by screaming into her pillow when she comes back in the evenings from practice. One night, Octavia comforts her.

  
“Don’t worry. My brother’s a jerk but he’ll get over it, ‘cause he’s gonna have to work with you for the rest of his life.”

  
_If Octavia’s such a wonderful person then why is her brother such a jackass all the time?_ Clarke laments.

  
Her response is rather sarcastic. “That’s reassuring because I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have long to wait if I die on my first expedition.”

  
“Don’t be such a downer,” Octavia hits her with the pillow. “If it’s any help, I know he doesn’t hate you.”

  
Clarke is surprised but then her eyes widen in realisation when she understand. His resentment is not directed at her but rather the system that has oppressed him.  
She takes note to improve their relationship but that doesn’t happen in the following weeks, _until_ –

  
\---

  
“We need to get back.”

  
Bellamy ignores her. Most of the blood is gone, evaporated in puffs of steam, but the blood that stays – it is human. Bellamy’s hands are shaking. _Pathetic_. In an attempt to keep the rest of his composure, Bellamy tries to walk steadily. One foot forward, one after the other, but he falters. The violent images are still fresh in his mind and the blood between his nails is drying fast. He would give anything to wash that blood off his hands right now.

  
Exhausted, Bellamy staggers towards a nearby tree. His legs feel weak when he bends down to sit between the gnarled roots and he tilts his head back to lean on the rough bark.

  
“Why did you help me out there?” His voice sounds slightly shaken.

  
“Because you’re part of the squad.” It is matter of fact – that is Clarke’s reply. “Believe it or not, we need you. I need you. You’re good at what you do.”

  
“Killing? I’m not a good person. I could’ve saved them. Those people -“

  
“They died and there was nothing we could do. You’re an asshole, but you’re not a bad person. If you’re looking for forgiveness, fine, I forgive you.” Her voice is steady compared to his, despite watching her comrades die just moments before. “Bellamy, we’ve all done things. But out here, it doesn’t matter.”

  
When Bellamy finally finds the courage to look into her eyes, he cannot bring himself to look away. _What did she do?_ He dares not ask.

  
“Okay.”

  
Clarke reaches out her hand and Bellamy takes it. A truce and a gesture of good faith.

  
\---

  
Although it has been more than three years since Clarke told Finn that it was over, he still manages to follow her with, what Raven calls, ‘sad puppy dog eyes’. Clarke does not have the heart to push him away because she wants to remain friends with him. _He’s a good man_. Besides, she does not consider him a nuisance. He’s never pursued her again. However, recently, Finn has been grating on her nerves. He seems a little jumpy – worried for her. And Clarke _hates_ that. _I don’t need protection._ His current misgiving is Bellamy Blake and Clarke knows that it is partially her fault for she has constantly complained about him in the past.

  
“Clarke, haven’t you heard? He’s a criminal.”

  
Honestly, she’s not bothered by it at all. “I don’t think that matters here.”

  
“But he’s on your team. He isn’t exactly the most cooperative person.”

  
“Well, I trust him.”

  
“You can’t be serious.”

  
“I am.”

  
\---

  
At first, it is the small changes Clarke sees in Bellamy: making small-talk and listening to others. Since coming back to HQ, Bellamy has been acting differently, but then so has everyone. Thinking about what happened out there makes her shiver, and she knows there will be more times like it.

  
Clarke looks out of the window and just in time to spot Bellamy throw Jasper to the ground and Monty hooting with laughter in the background.

  
“One last try,” Jasper says, gasping for breath as he gets up to dust the dirt off his trousers.

  
Bellamy humours him. “If you say so.”

  
Clarke smiles. The other day Bellamy was giving Fox help with using the 3DMG and teaching Monty his technique with blades. He is even talking to Raven now. They talked before but they were barely civil. Conversations ranged from jeering and sniping to aborted fist-fights, mostly started by Raven and usually ending when Finn pulled her away. Clarke could remember the last time. Raven was so angry that she had leapt across the dining table screeching, _Bitch, fight me!_ She quietened down when Lexa entered the room, but spent the rest of week trying to sabotage him.

  
Clarke figures that Bellamy had apologised to Raven when he got back, resulting in a cold stalemate.

  
The biggest change is with Clarke. Gone is the hostility between them and in place is something new. For starters, he calls her _princess_ less and seems more receptive of her advice. Clarke feels hopeful.

  
“You have a different way of taking down titans,” says Clarke with both blades in her hands. “How do you do it?”

  
“It’s different from the standard.” Bellamy replies. “How you hold your blades, I do it differently.” He reaches for Clarke’s hands and adjusts her grip on the handle.  
“Like this?”

  
“Yeah, like that.” He looks distracted. “The way I do it, it’s better to move and slice with this grip.”

  
“I see.” Clarke contemplates, biting her lip, and then pesters him to show her more. He grudgingly agrees.

  
On their next outing, they ride side by side next to Anya and they are more willing to listen to each other’s advice. When a titan steps into the clearing, they are prepared.

  
“It’s a 15 metre class titan,” Anya yells. She is ready to give the order but then with a closer look she realises, “abnormal. Don’t engage.”

  
“We can handle it,” says Clarke and gestures at Bellamy. She feels excited when Anya gives her the go. _It’s time to put all that practice into work._ Bellamy catches her eye and she nods.

  
“I’ll go for its legs to distract it. You take the nape.”

  
Bellamy gets into action, aiming at the titan and burying his blades into its back. The titan howls in pain. Attaching her grappling hooks to the creature’s hips, Clarke makes two precise cuts above its knees in quick succession. She was about to shout ‘go’, except Bellamy is already there with his blades, slicing off the back of giant’s neck. _He did it!_ Clarke feels satisfied. When Bellamy joins her back on solid ground, Clarke gives small chuckle. His expression is one of bewilderment.

  
“We did this?” Bellamy looks across to her.

  
“Together,” Clarke declares.

  
\---

  
There are some things that Clarke never thought would happen. Her morning routine is broken by Raven who rushes into the mess hall, waving the newspaper in her hand around madly. The shortness of breath indicates that she clearly sprinted here as fast as she could.

  
After regaining her breath, Raven announces the news with urgency. “There’s been an attempted coup in government. It’s a mess right now.” Clarke feels the air leaving lungs when Raven pauses and looks at her. When Raven continues, her voice is composed, as if she is giving a speech, to mask the uncertainty. “They haven’t released a lot of information yet but what we do know is that the royal heir has been murdered.”

  
The room is deathly silent. Then Clarke sees a few faces turn to her. _Princess._ And the murmuring begins. But in her shocked state of mind, their words pass over her, as she remains rooted to her seat, feeling numb. _Wells. It can’t be true._ Just last week he had sent her a letter, objecting to his father’s decision of his marriage arrangements. Clarke was going to write back but she had been so busy. He was meant to outlast me, she thinks, but finds that she cannot bring herself to cry. _Am I just heartless?_

  
How she got to the Commander’s office, Clarke doesn’t know. Raven says that she was in shock for a good few minutes before mumbling, _I need to go_ , and hurtling out of the room. But Clarke recalls the rising panic wracking through her body. _My mother._

  
Lexa gives her permission to go on a week’s leave and Clarke hurries to leave for the Interior. The first thing she does when she arrives is find her mother. _Abigail Griffin is alive_. And Clarke sprints towards the infirmary. It is the first time since her father died and Clarke feels like a child again when she breaks down, sobbing into her mother’s embrace. _I thought you were dead._

  
Although Clarke has reconciled with Abigail’s actions a long time ago, she has never found the courage to face her again, until now. _Wells._ He had tried to convince Clarke to see her mother again and forgive her. It is the bitter regret Clarke felt, that under these circumstances, she is finally doing what Wells had wanted.

  
\---

  
_It’s spring. Walking through the field. Long blades of grass tickle at her bare calves. Birdsong and babbling streams. Up above the crows take flight. Their feathers rustle against the leaves. Clarke thinks she can hear a cackle. And then it’s gone –_

  
_Replaced by burning. The acrid smoke surrounds and smothers her. She hopes that it will end but it only fades into the white, white mist. In the distance, tall, shadowy figures are moving through and towards her. By instinct, Clarke reaches for the gear on her hips but finds none – only a dagger in her bloodied hands. Not titan blood – human. No, this can’t be it. Clarke rubs her eyes furiously. When she opens them again, she is standing on a graveyard. Thousands of people circle her and Clarke sinks to her knees. She sees her father and he reaches out for her._ None of this is real. _The dead are dead, yet she can see the living too. Her friends: Raven, Finn, Jasper, Monty._ No, _but this could be –_

  
“Wake up, lazy-ass.” Raven had just whacked her with a pillow. “You were tossing and turning in your sleep so I didn’t want to wake you, but now we’re late for roll call. So, if anyone asks, it’s your fault.” She frowns. “Hey, are you alright?”

  
Clarke figures that her face must be pale. In cold sweat, she had woken up with a gasp. “Yeah, I’m good. Just a crappy dream.”

  
“Wanna talk?”

  
Clarke hastens to peal back her covers and step out of bed onto the freezing wooden floorboards. “No, let’s get going.”

  
Behind her, outside the window, the morning sky is a shade of crimson red.

  
\---

  
“What’s gotten you into such bad mood today?”

  
Bellamy grumbles. “Nothing.”

  
“Clearly.” Clarke snarks back and then follows his line of sight to see why. Across from them, by the stables, are Octavia and Lincoln in deep conversation.

  
“Seriously?!” Clarke feels that she’s going to enjoy this. “Octavia and Lincoln? You didn’t know before?”

  
“Is it that obvious?” Bellamy looks alarmed.

  
“No, not really. Octavia told me the other night.” Clarke smirks. “Did you have a fight?”

  
His lack of reply confirms her suspicions. “She’s supposed to tell me these things.”

  
Clarke sniggers because his voice has never sounded so petulant before. Bellamy expression turns even more sour.

  
“She has a bunch of friends now, not just you,” says Clarke, wiping the tears away from her eyelashes.

  
Bellamy sighs. “I know, but don’t you think it’s dangerous?”

  
“Maybe, but I think it’s better. They’ll protect each other.”

  
“Yeah, but what if Lexa finds out?”

  
“Don’t worry, it’s only us two who know right now.” Clarke reassures him and then leans in to whisper conspiratorially. “Besides, don’t you think they’re a cute couple?”

  
Bellamy decides that he has had just about enough of Clarke’s teasing and the lovey-dovey looks the couple – his sister – are giving to each other, and stalks away. When he turns back he can see Clarke clutching her sides before hearing her burst into laughter again.

  
\---

  
On the 105th Scouting Expedition everything goes to hell. They did not anticipate a freak storm followed by thick fog on their trip back to Wall Maria. There is no use in their flares anymore, to warn other squads of the incoming enemy. All they can do is continue make their way through the mist and pray that it will soon fade in time. Everyone is on edge. Without warning, they could encounter titans at any moment.

  
“Keep your eyes open,” Anya commands. “Stay sharp.”

  
The rain is getting lighter. And for a while, Clarke is hopeful, because the fog is also becoming less dense.

  
“There’s a titan to our right,” Connor yells. “I can take it.” He’s wrong. There are more than one and they emerge too suddenly for him to react. Connor swerves on his horse, before they pick him up. He struggles in their grip.

  
Clarke tightens her grip on the reins. She needs to help him, but Anya yells, “Bellamy, Clarke, you go and warn the left flank. Jones come with me. We need to stop them.”

Bellamy wonders whether they should stay, but an order’s an order. Clarke nods to Bellamy, _may we meet again,_ and they leave.

  
When they manage to catch up with Tristan’s squad, they are met with Raven’s cries.

  
“Clarke, Bellamy? What happened?”

  
“There are more titans to our right. Anya sent us here to warn you.”

  
“We need to go faster then,” says Tristan.

  
“What about the fog?” Finn questions.

  
“Right now, that’s the least of our concern.” Clarke realises that Tristan doubts Anya’s return.

  
By midday, the fog has cleared and it has ceased raining, but the ground is still slick with mud and the movements of their horses are beginning to slow. Clarke’s heart sinks. On the horizon, three titans are approaching. Anya is gone and they have no choice but to engage.

  
“Finn and Raven. You take the 15m. Bellamy, Clarke, the 20m. The rest, we’ll go for the abnormal,” Tristan orders.

  
They have no trouble taking care of theirs and neither do Raven and Finn. However, it is Tristan’s group who is struggling when Clarke glances over. The abnormal is too fast and unpredictable, and it plays on the disadvantage of the wet and slippery terrain. It is too late when they reach Tristan. He has disappeared into the mouth of the titan. Swallowed whole. Clarke doesn’t want to think whether that was better than the alternative – being chewed or bitten in half, as she had seen with her previous comrades. She feels a rage burning inside her. Too many have died today.

  
“Finn and Raven. You go for the backs of its knees. I’ll take its eyes. Bellamy, cut the nape.” Clarke then points to the two remaining younger scouts of Tristan’s squad. “Ride in front and distract it.”

  
The first two hits are successful and Clarke gets ready to go. She hooks herself onto the titan’s head and brings herself in to slash across its eyes. What happens next is a blur. One of the scouts on the ground screams something inaudible to her and around her are Finn’s arms, pushing her away. And then together they plummet to the ground. Clarke thinks she may have hit something when they rolled onto the ground because her forehead feels wet and sticky. Getting up, she witnesses Bellamy taking down the titan and Raven running towards Finn. _Finn, what has he done?_ She finds enough strength to stagger towards him. Clarke is horrified. _His leg, it’s gone. This happened when he pushed me away._

  
“Clarke, do something please.” Raven pleads.

  
Clarke fumbles with the clasp on her cloak and bends down to wrap the wound. Finn moans in pain. Her hands tremble and she wants to throw up. As the blood soaks through the bandages, she realises that there is no hope.

  
“I don’t know what to do,” Clarke chokes out. “He’s losing too much blood.”

  
Finn’s reply is a hoarse whisper. “I know, but I’m glad it was you, _princess_.”

  
Finn. Her first love. And, as first loves do, they always linger. Clarke bends to kiss his chapped lips and with a soft voice, sends him away with a last blessing.

  
“In peace, may you leave this shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, till our final journey on the ground. May we meet again.”

  
In the evening Lexa summons Clarke to see her. Attending to the injured left Clarke with no time to clean up her appearance. There are bloodstains on the cuffs of her white shirt and her trousers are muddied with dirt. The straps, which kept the gear in place, have not been removed. All she wants to do is sleep. To forget what happened today. Well aware of her state of dress, and not in the mood to give a field report, Clarke hesitates before entering Lexa’s office. But Lexa looks even worse off than her: hunched over her desk, with her face obscured by her hands that her head is leaning on. Lexa looks up when Clarke steps in. Her eyes are glassy, sad and worn.

  
“Anya had been here longer than I have. I was her second-in-command.”

  
By now, Clarke has learned that there are no adequate words of consolation.

  
“Standard procedure requires the leader to choose another in the event of death.” Lexa continues with a sudden lack of emotion. “We’ve discussed this before and we’ve chosen you, Clarke.”

  
_Nothing. Nothing to feel after a day like this._ And Clarke bows to take her leave. On her way to see Raven, Clarke turns a corner and bumps into Bellamy, his arm brushing against her shoulder. There is warmth she feels, but it is a fleeting feeling. Bellamy’s apology dies in his mouth when he looks down at her weary form.

  
“Hey, you okay?” The flames, which light the hallway, lick the stone walls and highlight his worried expression.

  
_Yes, you shouldn’t be worried about me right now._ But Clarke bites back her scathing comment, because, in truth, there is nothing wrong with his concern. Instead, she replies, “Lexa just made me Squad Leader.”

  
“Oh.” But Bellamy doesn’t seem surprised. This leaves an awkward silence. “Do you want to be?”

  
“What choice do I have?” Clarke says helplessly.

  
Bellamy does his best to console her. “Our squad, they listened to you. People listen to you. You can do it, I know you can. We’ll do this, together.”

  
“Together.”

  
It echoes in the empty hallways.

  
\---

  
These days, Bellamy spends a good portion of his time worrying for the sake of Clarke’s health.

“Clarke, don’t you think you’ve worked them hard enough for today?”

  
“Two of them are new and their technique is rubbish. We’re going out in a month’s time and they’re not prepared.” Her harsh words seem to have reached the ears of the new recruits and they flush red with embarrassment and indignation.

  
“What they were taught in training is a little different compared to here. They’re quick to learn and I’m sure they’ll improve in no time.”

  
“But what if they don’t?” She’s anxious, rocking back and forth on her feet.

  
“Clarke -”

  
“I worry about them. All I do is worry about how we’re going keep them alive.”

  
“I know and you’re doing your best, Clarke, trying to keep them in the right condition. But don’t you think that you deserve some rest?”

  
“I’ll rest when they’re safe.” She grumbles.

  
“I think that might take a while.” Bellamy counters sarcastically and feels her foot connect with his shin. _God, she kicks really hard._ Bending down to soothe his wound, Bellamy makes a mental note not to rile her up enough to incite physical violence. “It’s the truth,” he mutters and then pauses. “How about I’ll take over from here and you get some rest?”

  
Biting her lip in contemplation, Clarke considers that a nap would do her some good. At least she’ll be able to stay awake at their evening conference with Lexa.

  
“Fine. Make Fox improve her form and you can finish the training.”

  
“Yes sir.” Bellamy grins with his hand raised in a mock salute.

  
_Octavia is right. Her brother is an idiot_ , Clarke thinks with a hint of a smile on her lips.

  
Bellamy was right about taking a nap, and Clarke feels refreshed when she wakes up for the meeting. The next day, however, she finds out through Raven that instead of listening to her orders, Bellamy had disband the recruits as soon as she left. _You’re all tired, so let’s just call it a day_ , he had said.

  
Clarke is going to kill him.

  
\---

  
Clarke would always remember Commander Lexa and her words, which rang at the back of her mind. They would sometimes spend afternoons together talking, from the most mundane things to battle tactics. Sometimes their friends would join them around the table but over the years, they had left, yet their presence still lingered on like a ghost. Clarke could see it in Lexa’s eyes: she was tired, but everyone was. From the garrison she had graduated from, only a few remained: veterans, with broken hearts and battle scars.

  
Today is good day, warm and sunny, and the glowing light of the sunset streams through an open window. At the desk, sits an open bottle of Monty’s handmade moonshine. Lexa is staring absently out of the window. Clarke is the first to speak.

  
“You’re not very chatty today,” she comments.

  
Lexa turns her eyes away from the outside. “I’m going to give you some personal advice.”

  
Clarke frowns. This does not bode well. “You sound like my mentor – all wise and sentimental. How old are you again?” She snorts, taking a sip of the moonshine. _It’s improved from last time, but Monty still needs to work on it._

  
“I’m not that much older than you.” Clarke can see a smile dancing on the edges of Lexa’s mouth. “I’m being serious. It’s not easy being Squad Leader at your age, but you’ve got a lot of potential.”

  
_Where’s she going with this?_

  
“I know you care about your friends a lot. You and Bellamy make a good team. But you need to know that you can let them go. Their duty is to humanity and they have to be able to die for that. You can’t afford to be weak out there. Weakness is death.” Lexa explained.

  
“You’re telling me not to care for them? Because love is weakness?” Clarke was sceptical. “I could never do that.”

  
“You’re going to have to. Leaders need to make sacrifices. We’re working towards the greater good here, Clarke. I’ve been sending soldiers out to die for humanity and it’s a decision I have to make. One of the things I hate about this job is coming back and telling parents that their sons and daughters had fought well and died honourably, when in reality it feels like we’ve achieved nothing from their deaths.”

  
“You don’t mean that.”

  
“I don’t know anymore.” Lexa leans back. “Clarke, I’m not trying to tell you to cut the cord completely but when it’s comes down to these hard decisions, you’ve got to be ruthless. The end justifies the means.”

  
“Why are you telling me this, all of a sudden?”

  
“Because if something --,” Lexa hesitates. “If I die, you’re my next choice for Commander.”

  
\---  
At the age of 22 she is promoted to the youngest Commander of the Scouting Legion, and accepts it without looking back. Neither do her comrades question it: _experience is one thing, but skill is another._ By her side is Bellamy Blake: _Humanity’s Strongest Soldier._

  
\---

  
It is the first time that Clarke’s mother has visited the Scouting Legion. However, she looks neither pleased at her daughter’s new promotion nor disappointed. S _he’s too young for this_ , Abby had told Kane. _They all are, Abby._ Now, all she can do, is to offer her full support to her daughter, who was placed into this role by her mother’s own doing.

  
Clarke shows her around their headquarters. Her movements are stiff and the conversation feels awkward. _I guess, we’re both nervous,_ Abby thinks. A pot of tea has been prepared for them and Clarke pours the liquid into the tea cups (Abby realises that she had given them to Clarke after she had become squad leader). She takes a sip. _Earl Grey, that was for her twenty-first._

  
“Why are you here, mother?”

  
“I’m worried for you.”

  
“If you’re asking me to step down then I’ll tell you that I’m not going to.”

  
“Please think about it, Clarke.” Abby pleads. “The pressure. It’s -"

  
“I don’t need to think about it.” Clarke’s tone is icy. “You know I have a duty to carry out. To finish what father –“

  
“I know and I’m sorry. I just wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

  
Clarke’s voice softens. “We didn’t have a choice in the end. But I believe we change our fates – humanity’s fate.”

  
Abby can sense where this is going. Clarke has always been intelligent. When she was young she was always eager to flip through pages of pictures and text. A tug at their shirts and Clarke would ask, _Mama, Papa, what is this?_ But that was Clarke as a child. They had taught her to be clever, the military taught her how to be cunning.

  
“What is it?”

  
“I want to increase our budget,” Clarke continues as Abby is about to protest. “We need better resources: research material, equipment, 3DMG. The most important is titan research, but I also want to keep my people alive. If you could get us more funding I could do that.”

  
Abby knows better than to argue further with her daughter.

  
“Very well.”

  
\---

  
This is bad. Within a day of leaving, they are already being chased by a group of titans. Abnormal ones too. Two or three squads have been lost to their gaping jaws, although this did nothing to stall them. Their horses are getting tired too. _We’re losing momentum and they’re gaining speed._

  
“We need a diversion.” Bellamy cries from her left. _He wants me to give him the order._

  
“No. It’s too dangerous.” Clarke says firmly.

  
“More people are going to die if we keep going on like this.”

  
Clarke flickered her eyes from him to the stampeding herd behind her. It’s death. She can’t let him go. _Love is weakness, weakness is death._ Lexa’s words echo in her head. Bellamy’s right. It is the only way to ensure they all make it.

  
“Okay. We’ll go through the woods and separate from there. There’s an abandoned village not far. Lead them there so you can use your gear.” Clarke commands. “We’ll meet at the usual rendezvous point.”

  
Bellamy understands.

  
When their paths diverge, Clarke silently prays to the God that she abandoned many years ago for his safe return, as she looks behind to see his hooded silhouette disappearing into the darkness, shrouded by looming trees.

  
\---

  
_Where is Bellamy?_ Clarke is worried. He should be here by now. Sunset is in a few hours and after that there will be very little hope for his team to make it. She paces around the empty hallways of the castle where they had set up camp for the night. Bellamy is far too important for them to lose, so she needs to find him.

  
“I’m taking a team out to search for Bellamy,” she tells Octavia.

  
“Then I’m coming with you.”

  
They ride out to the village but all they find are bloodied limbs and disembodied heads. The worst – missing bodies – because they can never be taken back to their loved ones to be buried. Additionally, the anxiety of hope – _are they alive or dead?_ – grates on their thoughts, although hardly anyone who ever went missing came back alive. Clarke starts to fret. The titans are all gone so they have either eaten everyone or been eliminated. However, surely if they were killed, Bellamy would be here.

  
She circles around the village one last time before she walks back to her team, who are loading the dead onto the cart. A cry pierces the air and Clarke whips around to see a haggard figure limping towards them. _Bellamy!_ Before she knows it, she is sprinting towards him, throwing her arms shoulders, and pulling him into her tight embrace. Bellamy seems taken aback her gesture at first but responds with warmth and gentleness. With her heart beating against his chest, he finds that he has found a home that he will always return to.

  
“I thought you were dead.” Clarke whispers with an element of vulnerability. When she pulls away, she smiles and Bellamy’s breath hitches. Her golden hair, a halo. Her eyes are searching. “Are there any other survivors?”

  
“No, just me.” He shakes his head. “I took them all out but my horse had run away, and I think my leg is broken.”

  
“You did good here, Bellamy.” She places her arm around his waist and his over her shoulder, helping him back to the cart.

  
When they get back and Bellamy leg is bandaged, Octavia hands him some rations and sits down beside him.

  
“I thought I nearly lost you,” she says.

  
Bellamy voice sounds rough, like rocks scraping across smooth stone. “I thought I was a goner too.”

  
_He’s been through a lot today,_ she thinks back and remembers the moment Clarke hugged him.

  
“You love her, don’t you.” It is more of a statement than a question, which catches Bellamy out. She searches his eyes and is amused to find that he looks startled. Silence. _Idiot, it’s obvious. For me, anyway._ Despite not giving an answer, she knows. Bellamy’s eyes had never been filled with so much hope before. Like she and Lincoln, Clarke is Bellamy’s light, but their love is different to her and Lincoln’s. Octavia can’t put her finger on it but she knows that Bellamy would fight till his very last breath not just for humanity, or the people he cares for, but also for Clarke. Always for Clarke.

  
His long awaited reply is soft, almost a whisper. “I’d anything to protect her. That’s just how it is, how it’s supposed to be.”

  
“You should tell her then.”

  
“She doesn’t need to know. It’s better off that way.” Bellamy gets up with crutches under both arms and stumbles down the empty corridor. Octavia smiles wistfully. It’s an oddly pathetic and sad situation.

  
_Oh brother, you don’t know anything. You’re just as important to her as she is to you._

  
\---

  
There is a knock at Clarke’s open door.

  
“I need your help, Bellamy.” Clarke had called Bellamy up to her office today. “I need to reshuffle people around and you need a new team. Any suggestions?” She looks down at her sheet of names and picks up her pen, waiting for his reply.

  
Bellamy takes a seat opposite to her desk and takes a minute to consider his options. He can see clearly that Clarke is tired. She looks a little dishevelled – dark circles under her eyes, wild sun-kissed hair. The room they are in is messy with documents (shoddy piles of identity papers of those alive, deceased and missing in the Scouting Legion) and research papers (their team is doing the best to collect and collate all the information they have on the enemy), compared to the pristine office Clarke had kept when she first became Commander. She needs a break.

  
“How much sleep did you get?”

  
Clarke’s eyes narrow. “A few…” When Bellamy did not seem satisfied with her answer she replies with a sigh, “two or three.” She seems miffed – she already had a lecture from Raven the other day – and then hastens with, “have you decided yet?”

  
Bellamy decides not to press on the subject. “I want Miller as my second in command, Monroe, Sterling,” he pauses, “and Murphy.”

  
“Really? Murphy.” Clarke is sceptical. “I thought you hated the guy.” She’s not too keen on Murphy either. The new recruits are even afraid of him because he has a tendency of threatening and insulting them. He doesn’t exactly give off the image of a team player. Once, Bellamy had punched Murphy for endangering the rest of the team. No, they were not the best of friends.

  
“I’ll live with it. He’s improved a little.” Bellamy seems reluctant to admit.

  
“Okay, it’s settled then. What about the others?”

  
“I think we could move Monty from Jasper’s to a new team -”

  
“And make him Squad Leader.” Clarke finishes Bellamy’s sentence for him. “He’d work well with Harper.”

  
After scribbling down the names, Clarke leans back on her chair, chewing the top of her pen anxiously.

  
“What are thinking about?”

  
“We should bring them in.”

  
“Who?”

  
“Titans.”

  
Bellamy’s eyes widen. “Are you serious?”

  
“I am. We’ve got enough money to do it.”

  
“What about our men?”

  
“It’s worth the risk. I’ll think up a plan to capture them and minimise our losses. Bellamy, with this, we’ll learn a lot more about them.”

  
“It’ll certainly keep our research team happy.” Bellamy concedes. “Just don’t blame me if you get yourself killed.”

  
Clarke resists the urge to roll her eyes.

  
“I’ll try not to.”

  
\---

  
Down at the mess hall, Raven sets her lunch down next to Bellamy, who is sitting alone at an empty table. Usually it would be full but today seems like a busy one. Their team is buried deep in titan research and Raven decided to take a break from Monty and Wick’s constant nattering. Clarke is on a trip to meet with government officials. God knows where Octavia and Lincoln are. And from the corner of her eye, Raven spies Jasper bragging about his latest titan kill to the new recruits. It has been a long day, and Raven is bored.

  
Ever the eloquent conversationalist, she begins with, “so what’s up with you and Clarke?”

  
Could he not be more obvious? With his ‘what the hell’ expression, accompanied by ‘nothing’. Raven snorts.

  
“Nothing, huh?” She says, picking up her spoon to dig into the stew.

  
“We’ve worked together for a long time. She’s a good friend and I respect her a lot.”

  
“Friends,” emphasises Raven, raising her eyebrows. “Didn’t look like it when you pushed her away from Rickey the other day.” She probes.

  
“You’ve got to stop naming the titans we bring in,” he groans into the palm of his hand.

  
“Hey, Wick comes up with the names and I just roll with it.”

  
“Look, anyone would’ve done that for their friend.” Raven is enjoying the hint of irritation emanating from his voice.

  
“Sure, sure.” She’s unconvinced and continues to mutter, “anything for a friend who apparently hung the fucking moon and stars.”

  
Now it is Bellamy’s turn raise his eyebrows. “You know that there’s a rule against having relationships within the Scouting Legion. Though that didn’t seem to stop you and Wick.”

  
_Oh crap. He’s got me._ Raven almost chokes on the broth. She can hear Bellamy snickering next to her.

  
“You better not tell Clarke,” she threatens. “How did you even know?”

  
“Oh, it was Monty. He was walking down to the lab and he heard noises outside the door. Then he ran into me and started blabbering. I think you’ve emotionally traumatised the poor guy.”

  
_Damn Monty._

  
“Shut up.” Raven flicks the stringy piece of vegetable on her spoon at Bellamy. She never liked beans, anyway.

  
\---

  
When asked how this all had started, Clarke would not be able to pinpoint an exact moment. Of course, it started with a storm – turbulent waves on a rocky shore. And whenever the memories of the idiotic things that she and Bellamy had argued over resurfaced, Clarke would laugh. Years have passed by and Clarke cannot remember, whether she had truly hated Bellamy from moment they laid eyes on each other. It’s odd to think that he would become her right-hand man, always by her side, on and off the field, at group meetings and meeting with generals, where he would glower at those who dared to undermine her.

  
On the way see Monty, Clarke passes Bellamy, who is seemingly preoccupied in the stables, tending to the horses. Leaning on the rickety, wooden door, Clarke decides to make her presence known, “shouldn’t Sterling be doing that?”

  
Bellamy startles and his hand jerks, pulling the brush, he was using to comb the horse’s mane, harshly. This started a chain reaction and in a matter of seconds, Bellamy is on the ground, yelling a string of profanities that’s on par with Raven’s, and nursing his injured leg. Clarke bursts in - a laugh bubbling at the back of her throat, but she chooses to supress it for the sake of his wounded ego.

  
“What would our people think if they saw _Humanity’s Strongest_ on the ground like this?” She teases.

  
“Good thing they didn’t see.” Bellamy manages through the pain.

  
“Where does it hurt?”

  
“Here,” with a hand over his injury. “But I think it’s just a bruise.”

  
Clarke prods the area and Bellamy hisses in pain.

  
“Hey, don’t do that.”

  
“Well I’m one with the medical training so I think I know what I’m doing.” She draws her hand away. “It’s probably fine, you’ll survive.” Offering her hand to him, Clarke asks. “Can you get up?”

  
Waving his hands in refusal of her gesture, Bellamy grunts. “Yeah, I can.”

  
Clarke frowns. He’s been doing that a lot lately – distancing himself from her. They still talk but he seems to be drifting away. And the passing tender-like touches are gone. Clarke misses them but she pieced together the puzzle of Bellamy Blake a long time ago, and perhaps, this is for the best.

  
In the fading, velvet sunset of a hazy day, Clarke remembers. She did not come here to seek redemption, for all those past mistakes and men she had buried, but justice, for the living.

  
\---

  
They never thought they’d live to see the day humanity would triumph.

  
After years of titan research and barely successful attempts at scouting uncharted territory, they find the source: hidden within desolate mountain ranges, a village shrouded by whispering trees. When Monty delivers the reports, she doesn’t seem surprised, only tired, the years linger in her eyes, the burden she carries from sending recruits to their deaths. She breathes a sigh of relief, her final command: _find him and kill him._

  
A battlefield, a bloodbath. Heavy rain and cold mud. There’s a violent ringing in Bellamy’s ears from all the screaming and shouting. His voice feels hoarse but he manages to yell “Clarke”, before she disappears into the fog of searing, hot steam.

  
_“Together,”_ he promises, after realising that she knew all along.

  
\---

  
_“You knew that the titans were humans.”_

  
_“Yes,”_ she replied with a steady voice. _“My father was killed because he found out. Jaha didn’t want to alarm citizens. I couldn’t let them know for all these years that we’re murderers.”_

  
_“No, we’re not. We did what we had to do to survive, for our people.”_ He said softly.

  
Clarke gently tilted her head in affirmation that maybe he was right, that maybe her ruthlessness could be excused for survival. As Commander she’d steered them in the right direction, but maybe, just maybe, more lives could have been saved if she’d just confessed. Her pale face was illuminated by the flickering candlelight, as she looked at him with glassy eyes. _Thank you,_ was something she’d never really said to Bellamy, but he always knew.

  
\---

  
In the end it does not seem like a victory. Bellamy is stumbling through the fog, his dislocated arm aching, as he tries to find his friends, _where is Monty, Jasper, Miller, Raven, Octavia … Clarke?_ In a flash of golden hair and bright blue eyes he finds her emerging from the smoke. Her cloak is torn and tattered, spattered with blood, but all he can see is her hands: _red, red, red._ Her eyes are wide from shock, but behind them Bellamy senses finality. It is a mask of relief and resolve.

  
“It’s over,” she whispers with a hesitant smile, as he grips those red, red hands. “Humanity has won.”

  
They stare across a desolate wasteland of blood and bodies. It doesn’t feel like it.

  
\---

  
_It doesn’t feel right._ Clarke thinks, a week later, when she’s on a hunting trip with Octavia, Lincoln and Bellamy. It’s all happening too fast. The Scouting Legion is about to be disbanded and this could be their last time together, but she just can’t shake the feeling that they’re still out there. _They can’t all be gone, can they?_

  
A snap of a twig, flurry of feathers and beating wings, Clarke snaps around, ready to fight. But she hasn’t got her gear with her, only a rifle, pathetically aimed at the air. If Bellamy’s on edge, then he is a doing damn good job of hiding it.

  
“Hey, it’s okay,” he reassures her.

  
“Yeah.” She doesn’t sound convinced though.

  
_Everything I’ve done, all the people I’ve sacrificed. It wasn’t for nothing, so why am I unhappy?_

  
It hits her as they ride back and she has to choke back the sob threatening to burst from her throat. She is guilty. Ever since coming back, she can’t look at them, all those joyous people, in the eye, because all Clarke can see are those faces of the dead. They haunt her. They dismount, and, as they approach Wall Maria, Clarke lingers behind, and when Octavia and Lincoln disappear into the gate she stops.

  
“Hey, we could do with a drink.” Bellamy jokes. _He does that when he’s uncertain,_ Clarke notes.

  
“Have one for me.”

  
“We can get through this.” He knows something’s up.

  
“I’m not going in.” Clarke’s feet remain rooted to the ground.

  
“I get it. If you need forgiveness, I’ll give it to you. You’re forgiven. Please come inside,” he urges gently.

  
“Seeing their faces everyday will remind me of what I did to get them here.”

  
“What we did. We were all there. You’re not alone in this.” Bellamy holds her gaze.

  
“I can’t. It’s my burden to bear.”

  
Tears are threatening to spill, as she reaches up and kisses his cheek. A parting kiss. It’s chaste and the warmth fades quickly, but for Bellamy something else lingers, when she whispers, _may we meet again._ She doesn’t look back as she rides into distance, and neither does Bellamy as he walks through the gate.

  
_May we meet again._

  
\---

  
It was a foolish decision, and probably the most irrational one Bellamy has ever made when he decides to set up headquarters on the outskirts of Wall Maria, because he looks like a pining idiot. Although the Scouting Legion no longer exists – they have dispersed – most of the veterans remain to form a smaller bureau in charge of surveying and delegating foreign land. With Clarke gone, everything has been pushed onto him, yet Bellamy doesn’t care. He needs to do something to keep his mind from wandering and worrying.

  
_Where are you? God, I hope you’re not dead. Come back, please?_

  
A lot has happened since Clarke left. Octavia is married. Bellamy still remembers her beaming smile at the ceremony when Lincoln kissed her. Monty has his own research facility and is constantly occupied with his collection of plants and animals from the outside world. Raven and Wick, surprisingly, have moved into a cottage, but they still bicker like an old married couple.

  
_I guess some things will never change,_ Bellamy chuckles.

  
It is quiet in his empty office, and he feels lonely, even though he sees most of them every day. He gets the feeling that Octavia is trying to get him to move on, when she raises her eyebrows at his sorry state, and suggests that they should all go out for a drink, only to introduce a few new friends and drop thinly veiled hints of marriage.

  
“Lighten up, Bell. Have some fun.” Octavia pouts.

  
Bellamy tries to shoo her away. “Come on, I’ve got a shit load of crap to sort out”.

  
“You’re always so serious. Come on, you used to be so fun back then.”

  
“Back then we didn’t have to kill a whole load of people,” Bellamy snaps.

  
Octavia shuts up. _Good,_ but Bellamy feels awful once she left, like a hurricane, slamming the door behind her. He knows Octavia is trying, and she understands him, she really does, but there’s a part of him with Clarke: the sins he bears and shares with her, that only she knows.

  
Bellamy groans. He really does need Clarke. _Hurry up and come home, please._

  
\---  
“Bellamy. Hey, Bellamy!” Octavia is yelling, as she storms into his room.

  
“What is it?” Bellamy asks without lifting his eyes from the paperwork.

  
“She’s back.”

  
_It can’t be,_ he thinks as walks outside to the courtyard in a daze, because there she is, Clarke, radiant as the afternoon sunlight, and she is hugging everyone. Monty is crying as he pulls her in for an embrace, Jasper is grinning like the idiot he is, and Raven punches her in the arm. _‘Bout fucking time,_ she declares. Clarke smiles and laughs. It is almost as if a year hasn’t even passed. However, she stops when she sees him. Her lips part in surprise and her eyes are brighter than ever. He doesn’t expect her to run, barrelling towards him, and jump into his arms. Clarke sways as he picks her up. He doesn’t want to let go.

  
“May we meet again.” Bellamy mumbles into the crook of her neck. Her soft golden curls tickles his cheek.

  
He also did not expect what comes next when he settled her down. Clarke’s eyes are glazed with tears, as she peppers him with feather-light kisses, across his cheeks, nose and forehead. When she draws away, she bites her lip in a nervous smile, then draws him close again till they touch.

  
“Sorry.” Clarke whispers.

  
“Nothing to be sorry about.”

  
Bellamy reaches in to capture her lips, enjoying the few seconds of bliss before they are interrupted by whoops and cheers.

  
“Hallelujah! Finally. You don’t know how fucking long I’ve been waiting for this.” Raven rejoices, throwing her arms in the air with frustrated relief.

  
“Hey, it’s not just you.” Octavia exclaims.

  
\---  
At night she is lying is his arms, as she’s babbling on about the places she has been. Bellamy should be angry, and he was at first, because she left him to explore the outside world he had always longed to see, but he would always forgive her. He learned to accept and bear his sins a long time ago, so he had let her go, hoping for her to find a way back to him, once she was at peace.

  
“… the ocean, Bellamy, it’s big and blue, tastes salty.” She sounds young again. A bright voice, resounding in their cramped but cosy room. His light. It falters though, when she whispers, her breath tickling his neck: “I just wish they were all here to see it.”

  
“You did good, you know.” He murmurs.

  
Clarke smiles as she cranes her neck to reach up to him, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and then tenderly to his lips.

  
“Thank you.”

  
Bellamy doesn’t need the ocean because she’s here, with her deep, blue eyes, and like tides of the ocean she will always meet with him at the shore.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to fit everything that worked in the SNK universe here. If i tried to fit everything in we'd be here all day because it's too big. Bellamy's story is partially based on Levi's backstory except he's less grumpy and more taller. If you managed to stick through all my tense changes and flashback and made it here, congrats.  
> Nothing belongs to me, except I wish Bellamy could.


End file.
